Dream Caller (18 page)

Read Dream Caller Online

Authors: Michelle Sharp

Tags: #Dream Seeker

BOOK: Dream Caller
5.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You think Benson is lying?” Jordan asked.

“Not sure. And even if he is, I’m not sure why it would matter. Or why would it impact his son’s life twenty years later.”

Jordan shrugged. “Maybe someone knew about it and has been holding a grudge. Yet I can’t imagine why they’d wait twenty years and then take it out on David. Wait . . . 
oh shit
.”

Ty glanced at her. “What?”

“I just had a thought. What if this
is
about money? Try this on for size: Let’s say the adoptive parents
didn’t
die in a fatal accident. What is the other scenario that would make an extra baby suddenly available?”

“So now we’re playing twenty questions?”

She smacked his arm. “Think about it; it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“What?”

“Two babies.”

“Twins?” he said. “Jesus, Jordan, you watch too many late night movies.”

“Maybe, but think about it.” She turned off the radio and shifted in her seat. “Let’s say you have a birth mom, and whoops, she has twins when you were only expecting one baby. It was twenty years ago, and maybe technology wasn’t as good or she was dirt poor and didn’t have good healthcare. Who knows why, but shit happens. Whatever the reason, they expected only one baby and instead got two. So how do you make your agency an extra fifty grand? That’s about what it costs to adopt a kid, right?”

Jordan was on a roll. Ty loved watching her come alive.

“I guess,” he agreed. “Could be even more if you offer to pay all the expenses.”

“Exactly. So you tell the birth mom that the adoptive parents are surprised but thrilled to have twins. She goes on her happy way thinking her kids are in a loving home. But you really only give one of the babies to the new parents, because, hey, you’ve got this other wealthy family just chomping at the bit for a kid. You know the rich bastard will hand over the cash fast, so you go to him and play a song and dance about a tragic accident—
for a cool fifty grand, I can get you a kid in a few weeks
. Who’s the wiser? Birth mom is happy. Adoptive parents A are happy because they got the kid promised to them, and you’ve made wealthy adoptive parents B super happy. Plus you scored a bunch of extra cash for yourself.”

“That’s a pretty far out theory. But it would explain a lot.”

“Man”—Jordan poked him—“why don’t I ever think of clever shit to score big bucks and still make everyone happy?”

“Uh, maybe because you don’t want to spend years and years in jail.”

“Maybe,” she muttered. “But he likely thought he was doing everyone a favor. Including himself.”

“Let’s say that all this is true. That means you also believe that David has an evil twin who’s after him. Why? How would he even know he had a twin? And how does any of this make sense?”

Jordan stewed in her seat for a minute. “Well, maybe . . . Hey, I can’t do all your work for you. Some shit you have to figure out on your own. But maybe there are two David Bensons walking around out there. Maybe Hailey
did
see someone on campus who looked like David. Maybe your witness did see another David lurking outside the sorority house at the same time the real David was heaving his guts up outside the frat house.”

“Okay, Nancy Drew, get your phone out. You know what’s next, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m already looking up the address for the Appleton Adoption Agency.”

 

Chapter 15

 

 

Jordan didn’t plan on telling Ty—it was too much fun giving him shit about living in the boonies—but she was really starting to enjoy the long drive between Longdale and St. Louis. All her life she’d lived in the city or suburbs, but driving through the rural communities and open spaces of Missouri held a certain peacefulness she hadn’t experienced before. Ty, on the other hand, seemed to grow more and more restless as they drove into the city.

“What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

“This part of St. Louis makes me twitchy.”

He pulled his oversized black F-350 into a parking garage in Clayton, Missouri. The upper-class business district was home to many a law agency, government office, and, more importantly, the Appleton Adoption Agency.

Jordan scanned the surroundings looking for something suspicious. “Why? This is a beautiful, upscale town. No one will bother your precious truck while we’re inside,” she teased. “I promise.”

“It’s not that. Just look around. There are too many buildings on top of one another. Too many corporate guys in three-piece suits. All these sleek, expensive cars. I feel like Shrek, the big bumbling ogre who’s stumbled into the wrong part of the village.”

She laughed. “You are
so
weird.”

But she took in his appearance from head to toe, recognizing that he was right—no one was ever going to mistake him for a corporate geek. His dark hair and sultry gray eyes looked perfectly at home in a standard button-down shirt and jeans. His black leather jacket and boots matched his big, black truck.

“I think you look badass and sexy.” And thankfully nothing like the three suits that just walked by. She leaned over and kissed him. Then she slid out of his truck and took his hand as they walked to the adoption agency. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m armed. Just in case anyone comes after you with a pitchfork.”

They entered the plush Appleton offices, and Ty approached the receptionist. “Hi. I’m Officer Tyler McGee.” He flashed one of those killer bad-boy smiles along with his badge. “We need to speak with Blake Appleton. Are we in the right spot?”

The receptionist actually did a double take when she saw Ty smiling down at her. “You sure are.” She smiled back. “But I’m afraid he’s in a meeting right now. Can I ask what this is regarding?”

Jordan flashed her badge, too. “A homicide. Ask him if he’d like to take a few minutes now, here, or make arrangements to come to the police department later.”

Ty turned to her when the lady walked away. “I was trying to be nice. You’re messing with my mojo.”

“You were flirting, pretty boy. We don’t have time for you to make nice with the receptionist.”

He shook his head. “We might have to get you some therapy for your jealousy issues.”

She narrowed her eyes and flipped him off. “I don’t need therapy. I have a gun.”

The receptionist returned and led them into a conference room. “Mr. Appleton will be here shortly.”

Blake Appleton entered a few minutes later. He was a short older man. Maybe in his fifties.

Ty held out his hand. “Mr. Appleton, I’m Officer Tyler McGee. This is Detective Jordan Delany. We’re investigating a murder that may be related to one of your adoptions. Do you have any memory of the Ann and Doyle Benson adoption?”

By the cool look Appleton focused on Ty, Jordan suspected he remembered it well. “I remember Mr. Benson and his wife, yes. But it was a closed adoption. The records are sealed and can’t be opened without a court order, not even for the police.”

Jordan watched the shift in Ty’s body language, an almost imperceptible slide from easygoing to quiet predator. “Well, let me ask some questions in general; we won’t say it’s about any particular case.”

Appleton remained quiet.

“If parents who were looking to adopt were wealthy, had more financial resources to contribute to a birth mother than other prospective parents, would there be less waiting time for a child?”

“I’m sure you know, as an officer of the law, it is illegal to buy a child in any way, shape, or form. That said, some adoptive parents are able to financially support birth mothers more fully than others.”

“Have you ever had an incident where it turned out that there were twins instead of just one baby? What would you do in that situation, Mr. Appleton?” Jordan asked.

Appleton stiffened. “What are you getting at, Detective?”

“We have suspicions that the boy adopted by the Bensons has a twin.” Ty was direct. He leaned forward and went for the kill. “We also suspect if something like that happened, you’d remember it well since your adoption agency could collect two fees off of the same birth mom without her ever knowing.”

“I pair birth mothers who are unable to care for their child with parents who long for a child. I have never done anything unethical or illegal, and, as I said, our records are sealed.”

“Okay, since you can’t divulge that one important piece of information without a court order, I’ll get that court order.” Ty leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. “I’ll be more than happy to tell the judge I’m investigating a murder and that I believe your agency is smack dab in the middle of it. I will suggest that David Benson has a twin and that you knew it. Not only knew it, but profited because of it. And while I’m at it, I’ll make damn sure investigators get in here and comb through your adoptions so extensively that if adoptive parents so much as bought you a stick of gum under the table, we’ll know about it. You better pray to God you kept good records.”

Appleton looked like he wanted to puke, and Jordan couldn’t say she blamed him. Ty radiated a lethal intimidation. The twin theory had been an educated guess on her part, but Ty had gone all in, gambling that Appleton knew something.

“I didn’t do what you’re accusing me of,” Appleton finally said.

“Then I guess you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Ty turned to Jordan. “Are you ready, Detective?”

“And if I tell you what I remember, then what?” Appleton asked.

“Then I go away and I have no reason to meet with a judge. I’m investigating a homicide. I don’t give a damn how you make money. Unless you stand in my way,” Ty added.

Several moments passed before Appleton spoke again. “I think David Benson might have a twin,” Appleton conceded.

Ty shifted his gaze to Jordan. She watched him swallow down the disbelief. Honestly, she was having a hard time choking it down herself. Of all the crazy crap she’d been wrong about lately, this was a hell of a thing to be right about.

“But you’re wrong about how the whole thing played out. I didn’t sell another baby to make a profit or gain additional fees. I’d never do that. The birth mom came to me like they all come to me—too young, too scared, or too poor to raise a child. It’s never a simple decision for a birth mother.”

Appleton went to a cabinet and retrieved three bottles of water and placed them on the table. “This particular mother was poor, well below poverty level. She said she couldn’t raise the baby. She was almost seven months along when she came to me. I talked to her for a long time, and she finally admitted she was about to be evicted from her apartment. She asked if I could get her immediate living expenses.”

“And you knew the Bensons would be all over that for a chance to have a baby.”

Appleton nodded. “Yes. I started the wheels in motion, and I backdated some of the documents and counseling sessions so the adoption would go through. The Bensons were a good family. Their paperwork was perfect, and they’d already jumped through every hoop an adoptive family needs to jump through. I knew if I told them another set of parents had died in a car accident, they had the financial resources to cover any medical bills, and yes, I knew they’d even offer to cover the previous seven months of the mother’s living expenses.”

“Go on,” Ty said when Appleton grew quiet.

Appleton took a long swig from his bottle of water. “Not long after that she delivered at home. She said her sister had been there to help, but there was a snowstorm and she claimed she couldn’t get to the hospital. So I sent an ambulance to pick her and the baby up. I got them checked out at the hospital and everything went smoothly from that point on. The Bensons got their child, the birth mother got her bills covered and a good chunk of change for living expenses.

“I decided to hand deliver her final check. I felt like I had pushed things through quickly, so I thought I’d offer her more of our ongoing counseling sessions as well as see how she was doing.”

Appleton looked at Ty. “She came to the door with a baby in her arms. She looked guilty as hell, and I knew. Well, I suspected she’d been pregnant with twins and given up one to support herself and the other child. I think that’s why she delivered at home.”

“But you didn’t tell anyone?” Ty asked.

“She claimed she was babysitting for a friend, so I let it go.” Appleton shook his head. “I wrestled with my suspicions for a long time. She’d made thousands off the Bensons in living expenses by the time it was over and she got to keep one of her babies, too. So she was happy. The Bensons were thrilled to finally be parents. The only one who had a problem with it was me. So I just kept quiet.”

“Do you remember her name?” Ty asked.

Appleton nodded. “Misty Williams.”

***

There was more than one Misty Williams in Missouri. Even with police databases, it had been difficult to narrow their search to the right woman. But by the process of elimination, Ty was pretty sure he was on the right trail. Her last known address was a P.O box in Daisyville. Population thirty-one.

The woman had obviously lived off the radar. As far as Ty could tell, she was damn good at it.

He and Jordan had been driving back roads for more than an hour when they came upon a gas station just inside the Daisyville town limits. He pulled in and smiled when he read the sign: Local Yokel Pit Stop
.

“Look, baby. We can get gas, donuts, fishing bait, and ammunition all at the same place. Hot damn.”

“I have to pee, and I am
so
not doing it in there.”

“Then you ain’t doing it for quite a while. This is the only public building we’ve passed in miles.”

Jordan glared at him. “Seriously? How did I get here, and what have you done with my real life? I am never, and I mean never ever, getting involved with one of your backwoods cases again.”

“Come on, now. The twin thing was your revelation, not mine.” He laid a hand on her thigh. “If you’re a good girl and go pee-pee, I’ll buy you a chocolate Long John and some bullets.”

She swatted his hand away. “You’re a disturbed individual. Let’s just get the info we need and get the hell out of here.”

Jordan followed him inside and scowled when he pointed to the restroom sign. But she hiked up her jeans and stomped to the far corner of the building.

He grabbed a couple of bottled waters and waited for Jordan so they could pump the cashier for information.

“Was it as bad as you thought?” he asked when she came out.

“Worse,” she grumbled.

They walked to the register.

“Hi, there,” the cashier said. “Will this do it for you?”

“Yes, ma’am” Ty answered. “Except I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction. I had a distant cousin that I lost touch with when we were kids. Her name was Misty Williams. I tried to look her up, and all I could find was a P.O. box in Daisyville. Am I in the right spot?”

“Sure are,” the woman said. “But no one has seen hide nor hair of Misty in probably two years. For a while we kind of wondered if maybe she had passed, but her son still comes in every few weeks and picks up food and mail. I asked him if his momma was okay. He said she had a bad leg and it was hard for her to get around.”

Jordan gave Ty a playful punch in the arm. “You didn’t tell me Misty had a son. What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure.” Ty scratched his chin. “Like I said, I haven’t seen Misty in years. I think she may have been pregnant the last time I saw her. That was probably what? Twenty years ago?”

“The boy’s name is Jeb,” the woman answered. “And you’re right, he’s probably nineteen or twenty, I guess. Nice kid. Real quiet, though.” She leaned forward like she was letting them in on a huge secret. “I think because Misty home-schooled him, he’s real backwards. They both are nice enough, just not too social.”

“Well, thanks for the chat.” Ty winked and smiled at the woman behind the counter. “That’s too bad you haven’t seen Misty around lately. Maybe I should try to find Jeb and make sure they don’t need anything. You don’t happen to know where they live, do you?”

“I’ve never been there, but I hear their trailer is about five miles up Salty Spring Road. It’s a horrible tiny twister of a dirt road. If that’s your truck out there, I wouldn’t recommend you try it at night.” 

***

“We are in serious
Deliverance
territory. All we’re missing is a banjo and Burt Reynolds,” Jordan murmured as Ty snaked his big-ass truck along the narrow dirt road.

“Fuckin’ A, we are. Good thing it’s dark.” Ty tapped the brakes as something with fur and four legs dashed out in front of them. “It’d be really scary if we could actually see what’s around us.”

Other books

The Color of Darkness by Ruth Hatfield
TOUCH ME SOFTLY by Darling, Stacey
Hand in Glove by Robert Goddard
Such a Daring Endeavor by Cortney Pearson
Best for the Baby by Ann Evans
The Boy with No Boots by Sheila Jeffries
Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt
Remembered Love by Diana Hunter